


Kiss

by moonbaby11 (ushnuu)



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Not Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, ghost/human relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 22:26:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7732081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ushnuu/pseuds/moonbaby11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An odd friendship forms between a ghost and the son of a Death Eater.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> This is, quite frankly, the oddest pairing I have ever written, but this is also probably one of my favourite pairings I have ever written. Enjoy.

  
Sometimes I wish that I’d never gotten lost on that one day in first year. Sometimes I wish that I hadn’t accidentally stumbled into the Girl’s Lavatory, trying to get to Defence Against the Dark Arts. Sometimes I wish I could just re-do the whole situation…. but than I think of her.  
  
 It was really an accident, the whole thing. How was I to know that the door led to the Girl’s bathroom? It wasn’t like I’d ever seen anyone going in or out of there. No one ever used that bathroom, unless they were desperate.  
  
It also didn’t help matters much that I hadn’t made a single friend at Hogwarts, and it was already nearly winter. Maybe if I’d had a friend, I wouldn’t have got lost. Maybe if I’d been sorted into Slytherin like everyone had expected of me I might have made a few friends, but none of the Ravenclaws wanted to talk to me. Some of them tried to avoid me like the plague. So, how was I to know that when I raced into the wrong door, it would change things forever. As soon as I entered the room, I could see the mistake I had made. I glanced around quickly, trying to make sure that there were no girls who had seen my error.  
  
“Thank Merlin,” I muttered, before turning to leave the bathroom again. I had my hand on the door handle, when I heard a girl’s voice.  
  
“Who’s there?” she called out.  
__  
Damn, I thought. There must have been a girl in one of the cubicles and I hadn't noticed.  
  
“It’s, er,” I replied, trying to decide if I should just take off, or if it would be better to admit who I was. All of a sudden, I saw a blur out of the corner of my eye. I whipped my head in the direction of it, but nothing was there.    
  
“What are you doing here?” a voice asked. I jumped in shock and spun around to see a girl who was probably a 2nd or 3rd Year floating beside me. Floating.  
  
I gasped in fright as she looked at me. “Lost, are you? I guess so. No one ever comes to see me, poor, miserable, Moaning Myrtle.”  
  
“Oh, er, yeah,” I said, looking at the ghost. “I got lost trying to get to class. Sorry if I, um, disturbed you.” I turned to leave once more. “Of course you’re going,” she cried. “Everyone just comes once, and never comes back. Except for Harry Potter and those friends of his a while back. I grew rather fond of him. But they stopped coming after a while, just like everyone else does! They don’t want to be with me for longer than they have to.” Myrtle choked back a sob.  
  
I looked at Myrtle, not sure if I should be scared or sad for her. “Well, I better be going now,” I muttered, slowly walking backwards, trying to get to the door.  
  
“Of course you’re leaving!” she moaned. “Then you’re going to go tell your friends that you met Moaning Myrtle. Miserable Myrtle! Ugly Myrtle!”   
  
“No, really, I won’t,” I promised. It wasn’t like I had any friends to tell anyways.  
  
“Stay here,” said Myrtle, reaching out her hand to me.  
  
“Um, tell you what,” I said, hoping that I could leave soon and get to Defence Against the Dark Arts without getting into too much trouble with Professor Nichols. “If you let me leave right now, I promise that I’ll come back and visit you soon, okay?”  
  
“Really?” squealed Myrtle. “You’ll come back!”  
  
“Sure,” I nodded. “Can I go than?”“Okay,” she said. “Just remember to come back.”  
  
I nodded, and made my way out of the lavatory. It was a good thing that I had thought up the idea to say I was coming back. I might have never gotten out of there if I hadn’t. As I walked down the hallway trying to find the classroom, I had a feeling that I wouldn’t be seeing Myrtle any time soon.　  
  
   
  


* * *

  
As I sat in the Ravenclaw common room alone that night, staring at the blank parchment sitting before me, I thought about what had happened with Moaning Myrtle. You think someone could have at least wandered all of the first years, or taped a sign to the door saying ‘Warning, a ghost haunts these toilets. Stay out.’  
  
Myrtle had seemed kind of… lonely, though. I sort of felt bad for her, being dead and all and hardly ever getting any visitors. Nearly Headless Nick and the Grey Lady were always acknowledged with a smile when students passed them in the hallway, but everyone seemed to be frightened of Myrtle. I didn‘t really think that anyone had ever really given her a chance. And I had made a promise to visit her again.  
  
“I must be going mental,” I muttered to myself as I rolled up my blank piece of parchment. It wasn’t like I really had anything better to do than sneak out to the girl’s washroom. I sighed as I slipped my robes back on over my white button-up shirt, and headed to the door of the common room.  
  
I honestly have no idea how I managed to sneak down three floors to Myrtle’s bathroom without getting caught by Mrs. Norris or Filch. I guess luck must have been on my side that night. I slowly pushed the door to the washroom open.  
  
“Myrtle?” I called out. “Are you here?”  
  
I watched as the ghost swooped out from one of the cubicles, and floated down in front of me.  
  
“You came back?” she asked, looking closely at me. “You didn’t have fun laughing about me with your friends, and returned just so you’d have more stories to tell them, did you?”  
  
“Well, you see, that’s sort of hard for me to do, considering I don’t have any friends.”  
  
“Then why’d you come back?” she questioned, gazing at me suspiciously.  
  
“Um, yeah,” I muttered, running hand through my hair. “Well, I made a promise to you.”  
  
Myrtle beamed at me, and than burst into tears. I looked at her helplessly.  
  
“What’s wrong?” I asked, trying to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, only to realize that it slipped right through her. Right. A ghost. Not solid.  
  
“I- It’s just,” Myrtle blubbered, “No one’s ever come back to see me in a long time.”  
  
Oh. So they were tears of joy.  
  
“Well, sorry to hear that,” I said.  
  
“Thank you,” she smiled, looking up at me. “Thank you, uh….”  
  
“Scorpius Malfoy.”  
  
“Malfoy? As in Draco Malfoy?” Myrtle questioned. I nodded. “I knew your father!” she exclaimed. “I tried to help him in his 6th Year.”  
  
“Really? You knew my father?” She nodded. “Wow,” I muttered. “You must have been dead for- Oh, wow. That was really of rude of me. What I meant to say was-”  
  
“No, it’s fine,” Myrtle said. “I like talking about my death. It was rather interesting, actually.”  
  
“I’d love to hear about it,” I said, walking over and sitting down with my back against the wall.”  
  
“Well,” she began, floating down to sit beside me. “It was all Olive Hornby’s fault, really. I swear, that girl never forgot that I died because of her.”  
  
I listened intently as Moaning Myrtle began to tell me the story of her untimely death. It really wasn’t as bad as I had thought it would be, listening to a ghost who had the word ‘moaning’ in her name. It was actually kind of nice. __  
  


* * *

 

It had soon become a habit of mine, visiting Myrtle. I’d usually go after dark, so that no one would see me entering a _girl’s_ lavatory.  
  
Myrtle and I had begun exchanging stories about things that had happened in our lives so far. It was sort of an odd friendship between us. A ghost and a human. An outcast and, well, an outcast.  
  
“I won’t be able to come visit you for the next few weeks,” I said to Myrtle one winter evening.  
  
“Why not?” she asked, looking as if she might cry. I’d began to learn that I had to be careful with what I said around her, since she was rather emotional and sensitive. “You’ve made a better friend, haven’t you? You’re bored of me, miserable Myrtle.”  
  
“No, it’s not that at all,” I explained. “It’s Christmas break. I’m going home to see Mum and Dad. Merlin knows I need a break from this place.”  
  
Myrtle glanced at me. “Why, Scorpius?” she asked.  
  
“Because, I’d rather not be in a place where my only friend is a ghost. No offence.”  
  
She nodded. I’d taught Myrtle how to control her tears a bit better, but she was still getting the hang of things.  
  
“I understand,” she replied. “I was never really popular back when I was student here.”  
  
“Yeah,” I muttered. That was probably one of the reasons we had stayed companions. We both shared the same kind of loneliness. The same feeling of being left out.　  
  


* * *

  
Soon, the Christmas break turned into the Summer break, almost in a blur. School had basically consisted of two things; homework and Myrtle. I tried to make sure that I visited her at least once a week, sometimes even every day. It was great to have someone that could listen to me, and she probably thought it was just great to have someone, period.  
  
Over the summer I missed my only friend. We couldn’t talk to each other (it’s not like you can send owls to a ghost!) and Myrtle wasn’t allowed to leave Hogwarts, by order of the Ministry of Magic.　  
  


* * *

  
Second and third year were pretty much the same as first year. Regular visits to Myrtle in secret, and just ignoring everybody else, just like they ignored me.

  
Fourth year was when things began to change. I hadn’t really noticed how much things had changed until the first night of that year. I had snuck out of the common room again to see Moaning Myrtle.  
  
“How was summer break?” she asked, as I sat down in the exact same place I had for the past four years, ever since that fateful night that I had met my best friend.  
  
“Pretty good, you know. Dad’s beginning to feel better about the fact that I wasn’t sorted into Slytherin.” Myrtle nodded and smiled at me. I could feel my stomach do a little flip. Probably from something I’d eaten for dinner.  
  
“That’s good,” she said. I could tell that Myrtle had changed a lot since I first met her. I’d probably changed a lot, too. We had both kind of changed, in different ways. She’d become less moany and I’d become more confident, really, even if the other Ravenclaws still shunned me.  
  
“And what about your parents?”  
  
“They’ve been getting along better lately,” I explained. “Probably since Mum got a job. That was what they fought about most of the time.”  
  
“You know, I miss my parents,” muttered Myrtle. “I mean, I know they’ve been gone for a while, but hearing you talking about yours, just makes me miss mine.” She began to sob.  
  
“I could stop, if you’d like,” I suggested.  
  
“N- no. It’s fine,” she said, wiping away the tears.  
  
“Okay,” I replied, cutting our meeting short. “You know, I should probably get going, since it’s the first night and all. I don‘t want to be late for class tomorrow”  
  
She nodded her head in agreement, and floated along side me as I made my way out of her bathroom.  
  
The walk up to the common room was rather quick, as neither Filch nor his cat crossed my path. I figured they must have been looking around on the upper floors. Those were apparently places where 7th Years liked to take their girlfriends and snog. Normally I would have shuddered at the thought of snogging someone, but it didn’t seem so foreign an idea that night.  
  
As I quickly answered the riddle to the common room, and snuck back up to my dorm, I couldn’t help thinking about Myrtle. She was my rock. She was what had kept me going through my Hogwarts years. She was my only friend.  
  
I slipped into bed, hoping that none of the other boys in the dorm would wake up. They all seemed to be rather heavy sleepers. Four years of sneaking out every night to meet a ghost in a lavatory, and they’d never woken up when I had left or entered. I was pretty thankful for it.  
  
I stared up at the ceiling of the dormitory, thinking about her. It had been four years since we’d first met, and she probably knew me better than anyone, even my parents. Most of what I did around my parents, and the other students of Hogwarts, was just a trick, a part I was playing in a performance called ‘Life’. With Myrtle, the mask came off. She knew practically everything there was to know about me. Everything except for one thing, but even I hadn’t figured that out yet.  
  
I don’t normally remember my dreams, but this one will stick in my memory forever, I guarantee.  
  
I was running down one of the Hogwarts hallways, my heart pounding in my chest. There was something I needed to do, somewhere I need to get. I listened to the sound of my feet pounding on the stone floor, as I quickly turned a corner, and found myself down another corridor. At the end of it, was a large black door. I began running to it as fast as I could, but the farther I ran, the slower and weaker I became. Soon enough, I was on my hands and knees, crawling to the door. I was inches away from it, when I heard a scream. It sent shivers down my spine, and all of a sudden I could walk again. I stood up, and ripped the door open. I found myself in the bathroom, the same one I visited every night. A giant snake stood before me.  
  
“Scorpius!” a voice called out. “You came to save me!” It was Myrtle, though she looked different. Not so transparent. I glanced down at my hands to find I now held a long sword. I brought the sword up and swung down, cutting off the large snake’s head. I watched as the snake withered and feel to the ground, before disappearing entirely.  
  
“Oh Scorpius,” Myrtle cried out, running over and embracing me in a hug. I grinned at her, as she kissed me on the cheek and whispered, “My hero.”  
  
“Myrtle,” I replied, also in a whisper. “Myrtle. My Myrtle.”  
  
I was slowly roused out of my sleep as the sun from outside flooded through the window in the form, and hit my closed eye lids. I glanced around. Only one other person was still in the room, leaning over his trunk. I silently slipped out of bed.  
  
The boy looked up, and I realized it was Lysander. He gave me a little nod as if to say good morning, and I nodded back. He turned to leave, stuffing his text books into his bag, but stopped at the door.  
  
“Scorpius,” said Lysander, glancing at me, “Who’s Myrtle?”  
  
“Wha- what?” I asked. This was a rare occurrence, actually being spoken to by one of the boys in my dorm. The last time it had happened had been during spring last year, when Joel asked if I could pass him his shoe.  
  
“Who’s Myrtle?” he repeated. “You were murmuring about her in your sleep.”  
  
“Oh, she’s just, er, a friend. A really close friend.”  
  


* * *

  
All day, I couldn’t get the dream out of my head. Me saving Myrtle and her giving me a kiss in return. It made my heart pound whenever I thought about it. No one really seemed to notice that I seemed distracted since I was always rather quiet in class.  
  
That was the first night that I purposely did not visit Moaning Myrtle. That dream had left me feeling confused. Different. I didn’t feel like it would be good to visit.  
  
Every day for the next week the dream kept bouncing around in my head, never wanting to leave me alone. It was like my brain didn’t want me to forget what had happened. That I had been her hero. That she had kissed me. That my stomach had done a flip. That I, Scorpius Malfoy, was possibly in love with Moaning Myrtle.　  
  


* * *

  
  
When I had finally worked up enough courage to go back to Myrtle’s bathroom, I knew she was going to angry. It had been quite a while since I had visited her and she could be rather jealous. I took a deep breath as I looked at the door that had changed my life four years ago. I quietly pushed it open and walked into the room. It looked the same as it had the last time I had been there, which felt like an eternity ago.  
  
I walked over to where I normally sat to find Myrtle floating there, crying. She looked up as I approached. “Where have you been?” she roared at me, flying forward. I back away quickly, hoping that as a ghost, she wouldn’t be able to hurt me.  
  
“I’ve, um, well,” I began, trying to make up a reasonable excuse.  
  
“You don’t care anymore, do you? You’ve finally made friends! You’ve moved on, and you don’t need to keep coming here on pity visits anymore. That’s it, isn’t it!” Her transparent face was inches from mine, and tears were pouring out of her eyes, beneath her glasses. I felt my heart skip a beat.  
  
“It’s, well, I can’t explain it, okay?” I yelled back. How could I explain to her what had happened?  
  
“Tell me, Scorpius,” she insisted, moving closer to me.  
  
“Well, I…” And that’s when it happened. When all rationality escaped from my head, and I did one of the dumbest things ever. I tried to kiss a ghost.  
  
I’d never exactly kissed a girl before, let alone a dead girl, so when I leaned into her and felt my lips pass right through, I should‘ve known right away that it was a bad idea. Of course, I didn’t seem to be in a right state of mind at that moment, so I tried to lean in farther, wondering if that was the problem. Well, all that resulted from that was me lying face first on the floor of a girl’s lavatory.  
  
I sat up quickly, embarrassed.  
  
“What was that?” Myrtle asked, looking at me curiously. It seemed that my ‘kiss’ had done one thing. It had made her forget how mad she was at me.  
  
“I- I don’t know,” I responded, looking up at her.  
  
“I think you’re bleeding,” she said, pointing at my lip, I reached up and could feel something sticky on my lip.  
  
“Damn it,” I groaned, standing up. I walked into one of the stalls and ripped off some toilet paper, before walking over to the tap and running it under some cold water.  
  
“Are you okay?” asked Myrtle looking at me.  
  
“I’m fine, Myrtle,” I replied, applying the wet toilet paper to my bleeding lip.  
  
“You sure?” I could feel my heart begin to pound faster as she reached out, grazing my lip with her ghostly hand.  
  
“I’m sure,” I replied. “And I’m sorry that I, er, fell through you.”  
  
She nodded. “What was that, anyways?”  
  
“Well, you see, I wasn’t really thinking properly. I sort of forgot you were a ghost and, well…”  
  
“Were you trying to kiss me?” she asked.  
  
“You could call it that….” I responded, removing the toilet paper for a moment. The bleeding had stopped, but my lips still felt sore.  
  
“I can’t believe it! I was almost kissed! You almost kissed me!” She was swooping around the room, a large smile plastered on her face.  
  
“Myrtle, calm down,” I commanded, looking up at her. I didn’t want anyone over hearing us and catching me out of bed. We had been rather loud that night.  
  
“This is just so amazing!” she cooed, spinning in a circle.  
  
She looked so happy, considering the fact that all I’d done was fallen through her and ended up bleeding. I grinned at Myrtle.  
  
“You know, though, I can’t really kiss you.” This snapped her out of her celebration.  
  
“What? Why?” asked Myrtle.  
  
“You’re a ghost. I’m a human. I just slip right through you.”  
  
“Oh, oh yeah,” she responded, floating down so that she was sitting on the floor. “It’s just… I don’t feel like I’m dead. Not really. I’ve felt more alive these past few years then I ever did before I even died!”  
  
“Really?” I asked, looking at her. Sure, she wasn’t the prettiest girl at Hogwarts, not by a long shot, but she had helped me out when I needed her most. And that was one of the reasons that I loved her.  
  
“Really,” she replied.  
  
I smiled broadly at her. “You know, I should probably go visit Madam Pomfry about this,” I said, gesturing to my bleeding, and probably swollen, lip.  
  
“Yes, you should,” Myrtle agreed. “I’ll, er, see you tomorrow then?” she asked, fiddling with her pigtail.  
  
“Definitely,” I replied, pushing the door to the Girl’s Lavatory open. I gave her a small wave good bye, and walked out of the door. “I love you,” I whispered as I closed it, though I wasn’t sure if she even heard me.  
  
 


End file.
